


Tame A Gentle Beast

by cowboykylux



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Praise Kink, Riding, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Paterson loves to be tied up, and on one morning when you bring out the ropes, he knows he's going to have a great day.
Relationships: Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You
Kudos: 10





	Tame A Gentle Beast

When Paterson wakes up, it’s to an empty bed. He frowns a little, groans a little as he stretches out the sleep from his limbs. The sunlight of a lazy Sunday morning spills into the bedroom, casts shadows across your pillow. He wishes you were here, to have the sunlight kiss you awake, wonders where you are.

He doesn’t have to wonder for long, as you are soon padding barefoot across the bedroom, sliding the covers back. There’s a bundle of something in your hand, but just as soon as he sees it, it’s out of sight as you cover his face in gentle kisses.

“I’m sorry, you were supposed to stay asleep.” You’re naked, and your body feels divine under his hands where they go smoothing across the expanse of your side.

“I missed you.” He says softly, and you smile, kiss him sweetly.

“I was only gone for a minute, I swear.” You promise, reaching behind you and pulling out the thing he hadn’t quite seen. “I thought we could have some fun with this.”

It’s rope, red and soft. Woven together strongly, tightly, Paterson can tell. This wasn’t rope meant for anything other than tying him up, and his heart beats loudly in his chest when he sees it.

He yanks the t-shirt over his head with little preamble, blush already splotching red and rosy down his chest. You ogle him from your spot on the pillow, swallow down a mouthful of spit that just the sight of his firm chest brings forth. He swells with pride, both his heart, and his cock.

“How do you want it?” Paterson asks, because though this is for him, it’s really for you. He doesn’t care how he gets tied up, as long as he gets tied up. The bite of rope against his muscle is what matters to him, what makes him feel good, the way your eyes darken at how he looks is what matters, makes him feel even better.

“Arms behind your back.” You instruct, eyes kind.

He does as you say, flattening his palms against the opposite forearm so they lay nice and flat. You hum, admiring the view of his muscled back, and he’s glad for his military regiment. He’s not nearly as bulked as he had been once upon a time, but the muscle definition hadn’t completely gone away, all the weights he lifts keeping him in shape.

You hum, and he preens, as you wind and tie the rope around the meat of his wrists. You bring the rope up to the center of his back, before bending it and twisting it around his bicep, bringing it across his chest just under his pecs, and back around the other bicep so it meets in the middle of his back once more. You pinch at one of his nipples playfully, and his cock weeps for you, drools come. You’ll get there in time, you know.

It’s meditative, this process. You bring the rope back across his chest to settle at the top of his pecs, sandwiching the muscles, before criss-crossing the rope over his shoulders to frame them so prettily with the red. He wants to jerk off, wants you to jerk him off, the slithering feeling of red satin cord brushing his nipples and making him moan.

“Almost there.” You promise, and he nods. He’s impatient, but he knows it’ll be worth it when you’re done.

To secure it, you tie the rope in a square knot, the only real knot in the entire thing. It’ll be easy to get out of, when you’re done, when he’s done, and he’s thankful. Sometimes when you tie him up it takes ages to undo all your hard work – but this will be a quick surrender.

You step back to admire your work, and with a big smile, you guide him back down onto the mattress, laying him down on his back as you straddle his hips.

He groans, he wants to touch you, but he can’t, not this time. He has all day to touch you, he knows, but he’s greedy.

You smile.

“If you come before me I’ll be very upset.” You tell him softly, sweetly, and he would rather die, would rather die on the spot, than upset you.

But it’s so hard, so so so hard not to come when you start riding him, when you start bouncing on his cock and rolling your hips like he’s some prize you’ve won at the rodeo. He has to shut his eyes, has to focus on his breathing, because your pussy clenches around him so tight, and your moans are so pretty.

“Oh Pat,” You sigh, arching your back and pushing out your tits, making his mouth water, “Honey you feel so good.”

Your hands brace on his chest, his bound and wrapped and tied up pecs, as you rock onto his cock that’s been begging for you since he woke up hard. He licks and bites his lips, and you take mercy on him enough to lean forward, bend down down down and kiss him.

“It’s good?” He asks against your mouth, and you nod, sigh, gasp against him.

His tongue fills your mouth and he drowns in the perfume of your sweat, heart beating fast with the way your mouths sound as slick as your pussy, your cunt gripping him tight as you squeeze his cock with your walls. You give your praise in the way you kiss him, hungry, wanting more more more. He’s so eager to give it to you, eager to receive.

“Push up, darling.” You order, though it’s not harsh. Nothing is, in the calm light of the morning sun, and Paterson does as you say.

He plants his feet on the mattress and pushes his hips up, thrusting against you with this new permission. Now he groans too, now he moans too, his arms tensing against their restraints. You always said how handsome he was when he fought the ropes, some great untamed thing. He knows it’s not true, you’d captured his very heart and soul, had tamed the beast. Still, it was fun to pretend.

“I’m – oh fuck darling – ” You tense up suddenly, your face pinching up in a beautiful _O_ before it melts into pleasure as your thighs shake around him.

He watches you come, and simply has to fuck you through it, has to roll his hips up against yours, cock deep in your pussy. Your come slicks him up and you open your hips from the pleasure so he slides in impossibly deeper, making you both groan out.

“Come, if you’d like, come whenever you want.” You tell him, eyes glassy as they fight to stay open.

Paterson nods, wishes he could hold you, touch you, grab you, bruise you. There are old bruises on your hips and he wants to dig his thumbs into them, wants to make you whine with pleasure pain.

He comes then, it spurts hot and thick inside you, and you smile, rub your hand along your stomach and take every drop he has to give you. He knows that when you get off of him, gravity will be the greatest enemy he’s ever known, making it all spill out of you.

But for now, it’s enough that you both pant into one another’s mouths, noses rubbing gently softly together, as the red cord slips away from his limbs, and he can wind his arms around the most precious thing he has in all the world.


End file.
